Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 99736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
My eyes obviously haven’t gotten the memo because they track his ass the whole way to the elevator, dammit.
We make three trips back and forth between our cars and the apartment until all his stuff is moved in. By the time the last box is hauled up to the twelfth floor, it’s well past dinnertime.
“You guys can stay if you want,” I say to Reed and Law. “Beer and pizza?”
Reed’s lips twitch. “Thanks, but we’re adults now and don’t accept favour repayment in pizza and beer anymore.”
“Fine then, scotch and whatever Videre can send over.”
“Videre?” Anders asks. “Isn’t that the fancy restaurant no one can ever get into?”
Reed doesn’t even hesitate to sell me out. “Oh, Brody can. He’s Mr. Fancy Pants.”
Before Anders can question me more, I hold up my phone. “I’m calling. You two staying or not?”
“We should get home,” Law says, puffing out his chest.
I try not to roll my eyes. Why he thinks I’m a threat when Reed is so obviously under Law’s dick spell and in love with him is beyond me. That doesn’t stop the tiny bit of pride at being able to drive the man crazy simply by being friends with Reed.
Reed leans into him. “We really should stay. The food is amazing, and we can’t afford it.”
Law stares down at his boyfriend, and just like that, his expression softens. He relents, and I can understand why. It’s impossible to say no to Reed when he looks at you with puppy dog eyes. I know from experience. “Fine.”
“Great.” I head to my bedroom to call, because now that Reed’s pointed out I’m basically a regular and VIP at one of the trendiest restaurants in the city, I don’t really want to flaunt how casual my relationship with the owners is. They’re my father’s best friends and technically my godparents, though I barely knew them growing up. Now they just feed me lots. They’re my main source of food these days because my work schedule is so hectic.
I don’t have time to cook let alone shop.
When I open the door to my room, Lucky, my sister’s demon cat, runs out. I had her locked up so she wouldn’t interfere with the moving of all the boxes.
I’m halfway through ordering a massive meal, even for four guys, when I hear a high-pitched squeal come from the other room.
Without hesitation, I rush back out into the living room where Anders is standing on the couch, staring at Lucky with wide eyes and making a squeak-like noise.
Law’s trying not to laugh, but Reed looks concerned.
“Y-y-you have a rat,” Anders stutters. “A giant one the size of my head.”
“Can I call you back?” I say into the phone.
“Tell you what, honey,” Marion, the owner of the restaurant, says. “I’ll put together what I think you and your friends will like and send it right over, okay?”
“Thanks. You’re the best.” I hit End on the call and pocket my phone. “Umm, I guess you’ve met our other roommate, Lucky.”
“It’s a rodent,” Anders says, and Law can’t contain it anymore. He loses his shit, laughing.
“It’s a cat, bro,” Law says, breathing heavy.
“Like fuck it is. What’s wrong with it? It’s all patchy and, like, has no fur down one side. Or on its tail.”
In Anders’ defence, he’s right. Lucky does kinda look like a grumpy, oversized rat.
“It’s my sister’s cat, and she’s a rescue.”
“Your sister’s a rescue?” Anders asks.
“The cat, dumbass,” Law mumbles.
Anders shakes his head as if scolding himself for not thinking that one through.
“Lucky was a stray, and my sister found her … uh, well, yeah, let’s just say what she went through wasn’t pretty, but she survived.”
“Why do you have your sister’s cat?” Reed asks.
“She’s gone off to save the world,” I say. “Guatemala for the next year, after that, who knows.”
Reed smiles. “Sounds like Rachel.”
Lucky jumps up on the couch and circles around Anders’ feet. He tenses, and his hands fist at his sides. Law’s still laughing, but when Anders starts counting backwards from ten, all humour is gone.
“Shit, Anders, you okay?” Law’s by his brother’s side in a flash, helping him off the couch.
Seems like a bit of an overreaction to me, and obviously to Anders too, because he shakes him off.
“I’m fine,” he grumbles. “It’s just a rodent.”
Law laughs again. “Cat. Can you say the word?”
“Why do I get the feeling we’re not hearing a story?” Reed asks.
“When we were, like, eight…” Law looks at Anders, who scowls.
“Tell this story and die.”
Anders getting all threatening and growly is hot.
No! Bad Brody.
“So, we were eight, and this stray cat kept coming to our back door every day. Mum and Dad told us not to feed it, but Anders snuck it food anyway.” Law can barely talk, and his words come out all breathy from trying not to laugh. “He fed it for like months, but the cat wouldn’t let him anywhere near him. One day, he decides to sneak up behind it to try to pet it while it was eating—”